


a day in 2006

by CatsGirlsComicsAndThisOddball



Series: Equilibrium of Three Forces [1]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Kid Shuri, Omega T'Challa (Marvel), Teenager T'Challa, Young T'Challa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 07:22:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14303709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatsGirlsComicsAndThisOddball/pseuds/CatsGirlsComicsAndThisOddball
Summary: Or, the day that T'Challa regretted teaching his little sister how to hack doors.Edit: The title was changed since a very observant reader pointed out that since Shuri is sixteen in 2018, she can't be four in 1996.





	a day in 2006

“Three, Four, Up, Left! Very good, T’Challa! Again!”

The sun weighs heavy in the cloudless sky, on a serene afternoon in 2006, western calendar. Crown Prince T’Challa Udaku of Wakanda is nineteen-years of age, bare-chested in the heat of the Golden City’s training fields by the riverside. Calls and shouts echo across. The Palace Guard runs their heavy drills today. A bit further away, the Dora sing a trilling chant while they practice their deadly grace.

“You have come a long way, my Prince.”  N’Tomo says.

T’Challa gives his teacher a slight smile and crosses his arms in respect. “Thank you, Njingalwazi. I would not have found it without your help.”

“Don’t be so sure about that.” N’Tomo lifts an eyebrow at him. “You are certainly the most strong-willed pupil I have ever taught. Not a lot of Omegas pursue their training beyond the mandatory years.”

“I am aware, Njingalwazi.” T’Challa says quietly.

“I know you are.” N’Tomo replies, serious except for the tiniest wrinkles around his eyes. “You wish to become the next Black Panther, don’t you?”

“My Father has forbidden it.” T’Challa answers, ready and solemn.

“Hmm, yes. Have you judged any of your peers ready to serve as your champion, then?” N’Tomo asks lightly.

“I don’t need to judge. The tournament will be held, and it will be decided then.”

“You are a good pupil, and a good son to your father. You work so much harder than expected of you, sometimes I forget the great stubbornness you possess.”

“Have I done something to displease you?”

“No, quite the opposite.” N’Tomo levels him with a considerate glance. “From now on, we will start training one hour earlier. Your stamina is on par, but your mid-range combat needs work.”

“Yes, Njingalwazi.”

“You will make a good King one day.”

“I am not certain how I warrant that compliment, but I thank you.” T’Challa says.

“What is on your schedule for the rest of the day?”

“Training with the Border Guard, and a lesson on diplomatic relations with European Nations in the evening.”

“Then go and eat something now. Don’t think I haven’t seen your friends waiting for you.”

“Thank you.”

He allows his smile to widen as he bows to his teacher before he leaves.

The warrior’s commons are located right next to the training fields. The eating area is spread out among trees that offer shade. T’Challa gets himself a tray of muamba chicken with rice and finds W’Kabi and Nakia waiting in their usual spot. Other students and some classmates greet him, but none of them join them today, likely because W’Kabi and Nakia are already arguing loudly.

“… our borders! We can’t just let everyone who comes to us in!” W’Kabi says, heated.

“Why not?” Nakia challenges. “We have resources aplenty. The River tribe alone could host at least five thousand people, without preparation, easily. We have the room, we have the food, we have the money!”

“Five thousand is nothing compared to the flood we would receive. It isn’t feasible.”

“The same topic again?” T’Challa sets down his tray with a fond smile.

“The skirmishes in our neighbouring countries continue.” W’Kabi rolls his eyes and shrugs at him. “As they have always done, for centuries.”

“That does not make it better.” Nakia says, stubborn, but her frown eases when she looks at T’Challa. “Are you done with N’Tomo for today?”

“For today.” T’Challa nods. “You know, you could join our lessons.”

“You are the Prince.” Nakia gives back. “You get first dibs. The training is important.”

T’Challa inclines his head and Nakia and W’Kabi exchange a glance. He has not yet told them of his plan, but they know anyways.

“I have something to tell you two.” Nakia says.

“What is it? Did you finally drive your diplomacy tutor into early retirement?” W’Kabi asks. “Or have you sacrificed another alpha to the crocodile god?”

“Not since I turned down the merchant tribe’s courtship gift.” Nakia shrugs. “Alphas are overrated, eh W’Kabi?”

“Absolutely.” W’Kabi says, and T’Challa snorts loudly.

“Anyways.” Nakia says with raised eyebrow, the corners of her mouth twitching. “I’ve been accepted into the War Dog Program.”

“What?” W’Kabi gapes.

T’Challa makes sure to swallow, and sort his thoughts, before he says: “Congratulations are in order, then.”

“Thank you.” Nakia smiles.

“Does your father know?” W’Kabi asks.

“Not yet. You two are the first that I told.”

“You want to- you’re going to leave?” W’Kabi asks, and T’Challa feels a wave of sympathy for his friend.

“I think I have to.” Nakia says. “We’re always talking about the outside world- I want to see it for myself.”

“It’s shit.” W’Kabi says. “The world beyond our borders is shit. The people are savage, those in power are downright evil. If you want to know what the outside is like, come to the Border Tribe’s next Guard Meeting.”

“I’ve made up my mind, W’Kabi.” Nakia says. “I’m not going to let Border Tribe prejudice deter me.”

“ _Border Tribe prejudice_?” W’Kabi narrows his eyes. “We guard the borders of Wakanda so the other tribes are safe. We look outside, so the rest of you don’t have to. Trust me, you won’t like what you see.”

“I’ll judge it for myself.” Nakia juts her chin. “You have every reason to hate the outsiders, I understand that-”

“You really don’t.” W’Kabi replies sharply. “You’re a fool if you think you can change the world, and an even bigger fool if you think you can go out there and return unharmed-”

“Like War Dogs haven’t been doing exactly that for centuries?”

“Yes, but are you really qualified to be one of them? You let your heart make your decisions all the time!”

“Excuse me?!”

“W’Kabi-” T’Challa tries.

“No, I’m right, and you know it, T’Challa! She’s an impulsive idiot, and if nobody tells her, she’ll get herself killed out there!”

“Your parents were well within Wakanda’s borders, and that didn’t help them.” Nakia says sharply.

With an ugly noise, the earthenware cup breaks as W’Kabi forcefully sets it down on the table.

“I’ll see you at training.” He says coldly to T’Challa, gets up, takes his tray and leaves.

Nakia stares at her own half-empty plate darkly.

“He’s scared for you.” T’Challa points out the obvious.

“That doesn’t give him- he has no right to judge me like that!”

“No, and I am sure he realizes that. But people say stupid things when they are afraid.”

“I know.” Nakia sighs, and swallows.

She wants to say something, but before she finds the words, both their Kimoyo beads make a noise- an emergency alert. As do the Kimoyo beads of everyone else in the eating area. T’Challa summons the message, and his heart freezes as he reads it.

_Her Highness the Princess Shuri is as of now missing from the Royal Palace. If anyone knows of her whereabouts, they are to report to the Dora Milaje immediately. All available personnel are to report to the Palace Guard for coordination of the search efforts immediately._

There is also a personal message from his father.

_Additional Dora Milaje Guards have been assigned to you. You are to remain under protection until your sister is found and her absence has been explained._

The two Dora who have been assigned to him, and who have remained at the periphery of the area until now, are already making their way towards his table. His peers are mumbling, and T’Challa feels the weight of their eyes on him, sympathy and worry evident.

“T’Challa, are you alright?” Nakia takes his hand, and he presses it.

He breathes, forced calm, but it doesn’t help to ease his racing thoughts. This alert would not have been sent if it weren’t absolutely certain that his sister is not within the bounds of the Palace. Shuri has a tendency to get lost in her curiosity, and she recently discovered how to dismantle her Kimoyo beads- he freezes.

“My Prince. What instructions from the King?” His guard asks.

“T’Challa!” W’Kabi arrives, hurried and a panicked expression on his face that only eases slightly when he comes to stand next to him, to place his hand on T’Challa’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“I am to return to the Palace.” T’Challa says evenly. “I fear I will have to skip training today.”

“I’ll accompany you.” W’Kabi says. “We don’t know how this happened yet- you should have as many guards as possible right now.”

“He’s right.” Nakia agrees. “I’ll come, too.”

“That isn’t necessary.” T’Challa says. “I will go directly to the Palace escorted by the Dora Milaje. I will be safe there. You two should carry on with your day.”

They look at him, doubtful, and he forces himself to hide the urgency that burns in his bones. “I am sure Shuri will be found soon.”

He nods at his friends, and then leaves the training grounds. The Dora are hesitant to let him enter public transport, but T’Challa insists. There is no time to wait for an official vehicle. On the train, too, everyone looks at him. The alert was nationwide, and his little sister is beloved by their people. He gets nods, crossed arms, and mumbled greetings full of sympathy.

“Don’t worry, my Prince.” An old man with a grim expression says. “We have shut down all outgoing traffic. Your sister will be found.”

“Thank you.” T’Challa nods at the man seriously.

When he arrives, the extra squadron of Dora Milaje awaits him in front of his rooms, and he addresses them all.

“Thank you for escorting me here. However, I do not need all of you to guard me in the safety of the Palace. Please go and join the search effort instead.”

The Captain nods, tense.

“Okoye, you will guard the Prince. The rest of you, with me!”

T’Challa crosses his arms, and goes into his rooms. He waits for one long, torturous minute, until he steps out of the door again.

“Don’t.” He says to Okoye, who is about to touch her kimoyo beads.

“Bast damn it, T’Challa, you are the _Crown Prince_!”

“I know where she is.” He says and quickly walks along the hallway.

“So tell your father!”

“I can’t. If she’s not there, if something really happened-” the mere idea chokes him, sits like lead in his heart.

“ _Bhentse emfene_.” She swears quietly as she falls in step beside him. “I was up for promotion in three months.”

“I’ll write you a personal letter of recommendation.” T’Challa says while he hacks into the elevator’s control panel to bring them straight to their destination.

“Somehow I don’t think a letter will compensate for letting the Crown Prince run off during the biggest security breach in six years.” Okoye mutters darkly.

They arrive in the deserted vehicle bay- all Talons and Hummingbirds are out. But that’s not what they’re here for anyways. T’Challa heads straight down the stairs, towards the end of the Palace’s garage, where the hoverbikes are kept.

The smallest one is missing.

“’I will return to the Palace. I will be safe there. Carry on with your day.’ Seriously?”

Okoye whirls around, but relaxes immediately. Nakia and W’Kabi stand in the entrance of the garage, Nakia’s arms crossed, W’Kabi’s hands on his hips.

“You are a terrible liar.” W’Kabi says.

“Where did the Princess go?” Okoye asks T’Challa.

“Mount Bashenga.” T’Challa says and starts the closest hoverbike that fits his size.

“Helmet!” Okoye insists and hands him one from the shelf.

“How did your sister even manage to get in here?” W’Kabi asks while he and Nakia start their own bikes.

“She asked me about my engineering homework, and I. I may have accidentally taught her how to hack a door?” T’Challa admits. “She is a very fast learner.”

“Bast save us.” Okoye mumbles.

“Stay close to me while we leave the city. I need to override the sensors. We cannot draw attention from the search effort.”

The helmet moulds itself to his head, and he summons the override programs he wrote himself from his kimoyo beads while they race outside. The people in the streets are in a tense hurry, and no one notices them until they reach the city limits. T’Challa uses the Crown Prince’s authorization code to pass through the energy barrier, and the hack to prevent the notification about it from being sent, and then they race across the plains.

It’s only a ten minute ride at full speed. They find the missing hoverbike between the goddess’ paws, at the entrance of the Vibranium mine.

“Okoye, you will look outside and alert us if anyone approaches. W’Kabi and Nakia, you will take the walkway and the upper levels. I will take the lower levels.”

His friends spread out, and T’Challa takes a deep breath, and follows his own instinct.

The metallic blue abyss stretches out beneath him. Vibranium absorbs sound, but the depth has a song of its own, a fascination that anyone feels when they stand at its edge. This is the heart of their nation.

T’Challa takes the lift to the lowest level that is currently actively mined, but the canyon stretches deeper still, and he climbs downwards, as fast as caution allows.

Shuri is stuck on a sill, half a mile down, the next ledge way too far to climb for her.

“Sister!”

She looks up, and with a pang in his heart he realizes that there are traces of tears on her puffy cheeks.

“T’Challa?”

“I’m coming to you, don’t move!”

Quickly, he climbs down to her, and as soon as he is on the small rock, she rushes into his arms.

“Brother!”

“Shhh.” He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ve got you. What are you doing, hmm?”

She sniffles, puts her arms around his neck, and he knows he should probably scold her, but he is so glad that she is alright that he can’t even bring himself to frown at her.

“M’sorry, ‘Challa.” She babbles. “I wanted to see Isipho.”

“I know, kidege. But we were all so worried about you. Mama and Baba got scared because they couldn’t find you.”

New tears rise in her eyes, and he strokes her back in comfort.

“M’sorry. I left my kimoyos ‘cause I wanted to come here alone.”

“It’s okay, I brought mine. Let’s tell everyone you’re okay, hmm?”

She nods, lips shaking, and doesn’t let go of him.  The first message is a quick one to W’Kabi, Nakia and Okoye, to tell them that Shuri is found. Then he braces himself, and writes a short, formal note for Father and Mother. It’s their job to call of the Search and Rescue efforts in any case.

“We should climb back up.” T’Challa says to his little sister gently. “If I carry you on my back, do you promise not to let go?”

Shuri nods, and T’Challa shifts her weight easily- four years old, just over a year since she started walking, she’s a lot of trouble with very little weight. Still, he is infinitely more careful while he climbs back up to the mining level. Shuri makes a discontented noise when he tries to set her down when they reach the lift, so she stays in his arms the entire ride up.

Okoye, W’Kabi and Nakia wait for them on the platform, and Nakia immediately hugs both of them. W’Kabi also steps in, to grab T’Challa’s shoulder, then ruffle Shuri’s hair.

“There you are, your Highness. Your brother was really worried about you.”

“Sorry.” Shuri mumbles.

“It’s okay. Just tell T’Challa next time you want to make a trip.” Nakia says with a reassuring smile. “Your brother can’t say no to you anyways.”

“Hey!” T’Challa gives her a mildly offended look.

“Your Highnesses, your parents will arrive shortly.” Okoye says gently. “We should go outside to meet them.”

Meanwhile, the workers of the mining tribe have assembled, their headman conferring on his kimoyo beads anxiously. T’Challa considers talking to them to reassure them- Shuri sneaked past his mother, the Palace Guard and the Dora Milaje after all, none of which can be faulted for that- but the royal Talon is already landing.

“Shuri!”

“Mama?”

T’Challa catches his mother’s embrace.

“My Baby, you’re alright.”

Ramonda takes Shuri out of T’Challa’s arms, kissing her daughter’s face all the while. T’Challa takes half a step back, and meets his father’s eyes.

“You found her, hmm?”

“I am sorry for leaving without notifying you, father.” T’Challa says. “I could not risk diverting the search efforts in case my assumption proved wrong.”

“We will talk about this tonight. Thank you for finding her, my son.”

T’Challa leaves his parents to talk to Shuri, and joins his friends who stand a respectful distance away.

“Will Shuri be alright?” W’Kabi asks.

“I don’t think she will do something like this again.” T’Challa replies. “Thank you for helping me find her.”

“You did all the hard work.” Nakia shrugs.

“But all three of you had my back throughout it. I could not wish for better friends.”

“You honour us, my Prince.” Okoye smiles.

“That’s what friends are for.” Nakia says, and bites her lip when she looks at W’Kabi.

“I’m sorry I brought up your parents. It was cruel, and I should not have done it.”

“Just as I should not have doubted your capability.” W’Kabi says with a frown. “Just, promise me you’ll be careful out there?”

“You have my word.”

“And I’ll hold you to it. A promise between friends is sacred.”

They make their way back in the talon, all lessons and training cancelled for the rest of the day. His parents make an official announcement in front of the camera, and he gets praise from a hundred different people for finding his sister. After dinner, he remains seated unasked, while his mother leaves to put Shuri to bed.

His father stands up, and gives T’Challa a long, considerate look.

“You did a good thing today, my son.”

“Thank you, Baba.”

“You acted out of love for your sister, I understand that. But you cannot act like that again in the future.”

“What?”

T’Challa stares at his father, mouth agape.

“You are the Crown Prince. As the heir and the future of our nation, your safety is paramount at all times. Today, you risked it, when the one next in line to the throne was already compromised.”

“What would you have had me do?”

“You should have told me where she was, and accepted that it could have compromised the search for her. She would have been found, and you would have remained safe the entire time.”

T’Challa closes his mouth. The picture of Shuri, small and scared on the ledge deep in the mine settles in his chest, and he still feels her weight on his back, the way that she clung to him.

“No.”

“T’Challa-”

“If this is what you look for in an heir, then you need to look somewhere else. Shuri is my sister.” The words are utter truth, and he can’t not speak them. “I will never be able to put my little sister’s safety above my duty to the throne.”

“What about your duty to your country?” T’Chaka says, quiet.

“What use is my country to me if I cannot share it with my sister?” T’Challa challenges. “I am sorry, Baba. I don’t imagine I will ever be able to put anything above the safety of those I love. Not even Wakanda itself.”

“Perhaps that is a sign that you will be a better King than I am.” His father says. “You should go to sleep.”

There is something about his father right then, he looks infinitely tired, and T’Challa wants to ask why, but he knows that look. He goes to his rooms instead, exchanges a few more text messages with Nakia and W’Kabi while he gets ready for bed. He isn’t surprised when the door to his bedroom opens.

“Sneaking out again already, huh?”

“Mama forgot to tell me a goodnight story.”

“Alright, alright.”

He follows his little sister into her room, tucks her in and sits down on the floor next to her bed.

“Tell me a story, Brother.”

“What story?”

When Queen Ramonda checks on her daughter late that night, she finds her asleep, holding on to T’Challa’s hand. Her son rests, leaning against the Princess’ bed in a position that would put a horrible crick into any older person’s neck. With a click of her tongue, she takes the extra blanket from the foot of Shuri’s bed and places it over T’Challa. Then she gently closes the door, and re-joins her husband.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so the next chapter to threefold is still kicking my ass, but I'm on it, I promise. In the meantime, if you're over 18, come visit [my tumblr](https://batgirlonawafflerampage.tumblr.com/) and [give me a ficlet or a headcanon prompt](https://batgirlonawafflerampage.tumblr.com/ask)!


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